Feb 23, 2008I have just posted a new story, my first story since January 3rd. It is a bit different from my previous works, but please feel free to read it, if you feel the urge to do so. It is called "Lady of the Evening".

Jan 13, 2008Well, my fancy little contest is now over with Eraser winning. Your prize, Eraser, is the recognition that you are clearly the only person who actually takes the time to read my news! I applaud you! (Hey, what did you expect, a million dollars?) Also, Eraser receives an invisible cyber-cookie! Hooray!

Jan 7, 2008After many, many requests, I have posted my life story to my profile. (Chuckles at his associate's scoff of immaturity.) As such, I do hope that the teeming masses that visit this page on a daily basis will enjoy reading it and learning of my qtragic life. (qThe q's qare from my associate,q Archibaqld. It seems she cannot even spell her owqn nameq.) Well,q see you all on the flqip side!q

Jan 3, 2008I got bored of my previous profile picture, so I updated it. Yay! That's pretty much what's going on in my life right now, so, go away and leave me alone! Go read one of my pieces or something!
But seriously, how many people actually read the news on this page? If you do, you win a super cool prize that I will reveal on January 14. (If I remember, that is...)

Oct 6, 2007Let's see... I just posted "To Catch a Talkative Man", so everyone should go read that one. It is quite funny, if I do say so myself.
In other news, my big project now is an extended version of "Eagle Over Hiroshima". I may begin to post bits and pieces of that as time goes on. (Perhaps even chapters if I'm really productive!)
Well, that's about it for now. Peace all, and remember, not all monkeys hate humanity, just most of them!

In all my life, truer words have not been spoken then these, spoken by a true friend of mine, her name lost to the ages. "Every fight is a food fight when you are a cannibal." These words have shaped my life in a countless number of ways. My name is, as some of you may be aware, Mr. Norbert "Andlat" von Hefflehorn. I was born in a hospital in Iceland on February the twenty-eighth in the year of our lord (Archibald) eighteen hundred and ninety-two. Naturally, this makes me very close to being old. (My associate Archibald assures me that I am still young at heart.) I lived my first two decades in Iceland, but then, on the eve of my twenty-first birthday, my traveler's spirit awoke, and I began my epic journey to that wonderous place known as the United States of America. Once I arrived, I made my homestead in that town of sin known as San Francisco. I soon had a steady job as an erotic photographer, and I soon found myself swept up in the life that is that of a man of my occupation. I held this job until 1956, when I met my true love, Ms. Nymphadora Higgins. Sadly, she passed away of tuberculosis within five days of our meeting. This, naturally, affected my life greatly, and it was at this time that I began writing. Naturally, my first few (read: 700) pieces were absolute bollocks, and I soon fell into a great dispair. (sigh forlornly)

However, a change of luck was on the horizon, for in 1958, I was hit by a milk truck. After a successful lawsuit, I recieved a grand sum of fourteen dollars and nineteen cents. I was indeed, at last, dirt poor, for as I had laid there shortly after being knocked unconcious by the truck, vagabonds had emptied my pockets, which sadly had contained my life's savings. (I have never trusted banks.) Needless to say, after that, I was temporarily stricken mute by the shock. I was committed to a mental asylum, where I stayed until the pyromaniacs burned it down. I was the sole survivor. Since that fateful day, I have had to remain in hiding, even to this very day.